How they survived

Several factors helped Danvers, specialists say

DANVERS -- It was the question almost everyone asked after viewing the horrible destruction left by the massive chemical explosion in Danvers: How could it be that no one died?

It was proclaimed a miracle by the governor. But, according to local officials and specialists, clear-cut reasons are emerging to explain the amazing lack of casualties.

The plant was empty at the time of the blast. Debris and force from the explosion mainly blew toward empty fields and a river. And the force of the explosion wasn't powerful enough for the nearby houses to collapse onto occupants.

And, luckily, many nearby residents were horizontal, asleep in bed and covered with blankets as glass sailed over them.

Only 10 people were hospitalized, all with minor injuries.

"When I was first at the scene, I looked down the street and saw the devastation," said Danvers Fire Chief James T. Tutko.

"I thought for sure we'd be doing body recovery for the rest of the afternoon," Tutko said.

The main reason this did not happen, said industrial accident specialists, was that workers from CAI and Arnel, the two companies with operations at the site, had left work hours earlier. Deaths in most industrial explosions involve workers, according to federal data.

"Generally, off-site damage doesn't kill people. . . . It's on-site workers that usually die or get hurt," said Stephen Selk, manager of investigations for the US Chemical Safety and Hazard Investigation Board, which is investigating the Danvers blast.

In addition, the explosion may not have been as powerful as had initially been thought.

The shock wave in the ground registered 0.5 on the Richter scale, drawing much attention. But such blasts are commonplace, equivalent to small-scale dynamiting at a work site.

"In summer months, we often measure 15 to 20 equivalent blasts each day from construction projects around Eastern Massachusetts," said John Ebel, director of Boston College's Weston Observatory, which made the seismograph readings of the Danvers blast. He said the seismic readings had indicated that the shock wave had the power of about three ounces of dynamite.

Although houses on the street that was closest to the plant sustained significant damage, most of the walls and foundations were left intact.

"Most deaths in earthquakes and other natural disasters happen when things fall on people; that didn't happen here," Ebel said.

The rest of the force from the blast was manifested as a wave of air that pushed mostly upward and out.

"The explosion was very much vertical," said State Fire Marshal Stephen D. Coan.

On three sides of the plant -- east, west, and south -- the air wave blew into empty fields and a river, as well as several businesses and a marina, all unoccupied.

The only residences directly in the path were to the north, on Bates Street, where the air wave blew onto a row of houses.

The houses, five of which have now been deemed uninhabitable, acted as a buffer for the rest of Danversport, absorbing much of the blast's initial power.

Though damage was found a quarter-mile away, after Bates Street, it was not nearly as extensive.

Deborah Riva of 1 Bates Street was asleep when it happened.

"The ceiling was down. All the windows were blown in. It was like a sea of glaciers," she said, adding that none of the flying glass cut her, "I really, really think it was because I was in bed, lying flat down."

Coan and other fire officials said the glass had probably flown right over dozens of sleeping residents, sparing them gory injuries or death.

Mark McDermott, who lived at 3 Bates St., was also awakened.

"The blast was instantaneous," he said. "Once it happened, the force just blew."

It ripped the wall off the side of his house facing the plant. The air wave slammed chunks of wood and concrete from the plant into the Bates Street houses. Most windows were blown out. Roofs were shredded; walls were damaged. But the houses, some nearly a century old, protected occupants.

David Marcou, 34, lived at 3 Bates St. The explosion blew off his bedroom wall. He reckons that being under covers saved him from flying glass. Despite all the circumstances and science, Marcou said something as arbitrary as turning in early may have saved his life.